Bonds of Friendship
by Dark Oath
Summary: See AN for my thoughts on the subject. Sparda has defeated Mundus. Now all that needs to be done is close the Temennigru for good. Sometimes letting someone else do what's necessary is harder than doing it yourself.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I think the authors notes on this are going to be long as there is a lot of this fic that a lot of people may not agree with (some may not agree with any of it) You may take it as AU if you want to, or not. The choice is yours. This is just one story about Sparda and the sacrificed woman, just one idea about how it may or may not have happened. As I'm not a writer for Capcom, I take it as AU, as I do all fanfic, it's just an idea. Just for the record, I've not named the woman, as I can't bring myself to do something so presumptuous as name her. I've also placed the whole 'war' with Mundus as taking about 50 years in total to achieve victory against Mundus. The reason for this is because it fits better for how I wanted to write this, but by way of an explanation on how it takes Sparda so long to achieve something his son manages in an afternoon is this: The booklet in DMC one states that there was a war between the human world and the demon world, so I'm working on the premise that Mundus and the demon legions at this point have a firm foothold than he did on Mallet Island, where he was only just starting to make a return (I know that Trish said he'd been planning it for twenty years, but even in human experience, gaining a strong foothold in a foreign land can take a very long time). Also, Sparda had been on the demon side previously, so therefore, Mundus had the initial advantage to gain in power, so it could be seen, that Sparda had much more work, and a more powerful (in some ways) Mundus, than Dante had to face 2000 years later. I know that it also says Sparda faced the demon legions alone, but this is where I incorporate DMC2 into the equation. Matier says that the Vie de Marli clan fought alongside Sparda. Working on that Matier appeared to know Sparda, it could have been a more recent thing, but for the sake of this story and attempting to find my own continuity between the three games, I choose to see this a partnership and allegiance that has been in existence for many centuries. Also, I wanted to explore an origin for Arkham's book.

Just as a minor note about the use of language in this, this story, is set approx. 2000 years before the events of the DMC games, and while I think Sparda would have moved with the times and spoken more like everyone else at a later point in his life, at this point in time, I want to use the use of language to also have a less modern feel to it, so as I have no idea n how anyone would have spoken 2000 years ago in a fictional world, I've gone for a slightly more formal feel to it. But whether you agree with any of my reasoning or not, I hope you enjoy reading this.

Sparda stood on the hill and surveyed what had been a battlefield. The members of the Vie De Marli clan had fought bravely alongside him, and at great personal sacrifice. Though they had the blood of devils, they were mostly human and at a disadvantage from their enemies, but to their credit, the day had been theirs.

As he watched the survivors retrieve their dead and tend to the injured, Sparda quietly mourned the loss of friends and comrades. His eyes moved from the field to the tower in the distance. Mundus had been dealt with, now one last challenge lay before him. As he stared into the distance, he felt a presence approach from behind.

"I will accompany you."

Sparda turned to the voice. "It is too dangerous. I must face this alone." He almost smiled at the sound of the woman's laughter.

"How can this possibly be more dangerous than anything we've faced so far? You show concern where it is not needed, Brother."

They both watched the tower in silence, then she spoke again. "You also lie badly."

Sparda turned his head to look at her as she watched the tower. "Explain."

"Our previous conversation, and again now. You know you cannot do this alone. You need me." She turned to smile at him.

Sparda inwardly cursed. She was right of course, but he had hoped he could find another way.

"You know there is no other way."

Sparda smiled at her. "You seem to have this uncanny ability to read my mind, Sister."

Laughing softly, she replied. "As the spiritual guide of this clan, it is my place to know the hearts and minds of others."

"But I am not one of your flock." He said good-naturedly.

"No, you're not. But you have in the past sought my opinion, so you respect me as an equal, and we have shared many battles. We are brother and sister." She paused. "Besides, a being such as yourself, being spiritual by your very nature; as a spiritual guide, I am compelled to know about you. Just being what you are makes you my business."

Now it was Sparda's turn to laugh. "You tease, Sister. One of these days I will repay you." Then realising what he'd said, he couldn't hide the sadness in his eyes.

"how can you when I never give you an opening?" She teased again.

Sparda appreciated her attempt to alleviate the moment. Taking her hand gently in his, all joking aside. "You are a good friend to me, Sister. This is not how I want it to end."

Bringing a finger to her lips, she shushed him. "It has to be someone. My position in the clan dictates it should be me."

"Your position dictates why it should not be you. You're people need you."

"Can you choose who it should be in my stead then? And that is precisely why it should be me. I serve my people, this is just another way they need me. I know they will be fine. You will watch over them for me, Brother?"

"To the best of my ability."

"Then I am satisfied. My confidence in your ability is well founded."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a while before returning to the camp to offer what help they could.

Sparda watched the victory celebration held in the camp that evening with a reserved pleasure. He shared their jubilation, but still felt separate from the group. He wasn't one of them, and still didn't totally understand these humans yet. Also, despite all he'd done, some of them were still wary of him because of what he was. He understood and accepted their feelings with good grace. The members of this clan had suffered harshly for many centuries at the hands of demons, such ingrained hurt was hard to overcome.

He watched from his vantage point as the clan gave thanks to their spiritual leader, and watched her face in amusement for he knew how much distaste she had for this side of her role.

Once the formalities had ended and the festivities continued, she broke away from them unnoticed and came towards him.

"Are you ready to leave?"

"You wish to go now, without any goodbyes?" Sparda asked.

"I have left a letter for my daughter. She will continue my work here, and I believe it's better if I leave this way. Less fuss." She walked a few yards to the right and picked a small leather wrapped bundle from the ground."

"Ah, that explains what that is. You've had this planned." Sparda said. It wasn't a question.

"For some time now, I've known what needed to be done."

"Can I ask how?" Sparda had already a good idea how, but thought to let her explain.

"Only if you can walk at the same time."

As they both set off east away from the camp, Sparda asked again.

"Alright, you've caught me out. I confess. That book of yours, I read it that time you left it on the table."

"I thought that was the case." Sparda smiled. "So you decided then that this was the path you were to follow."

She nodded then picked up her step. "Come, Brother. At this rate it will take us weeks to cover what should only be a two day journey!"

Sparda easily fell into the pace that she was comfortable with, but resolved to keep an eye on her for signs of fatigue for she would deny any tiredness later.

They travelled on foot into the early hours of the morning, then rested for a few hours until daybreak so she could keep her strength up. The small leather bundle contained a small supply of food and water for the journey. Sparda declined the food and drink offered. He could go much longer without it and she needed it more.

There was very little cover on the journey between the camp and the tower. The land was mainly flat fields, which was why it was chosen , not just for it's proximity, for the battle site. Finally, at a distance from the tower of half a day, they came to a set of large rocks jutting from the ground that would provide them with some cover.

Sparda made a fire while she took a few sips of water and gained her breath. They could not stop too long, for the tower still needed to be sealed, and though Mundus had been effectively neutralised as a threat, there were always others to rise and take an advantage. The tower had guardians, powerful demons whose sole purpose was to keep out intruders. Sparda could deal with them, without having to fight. Even the mighty Beowulf would begrudgingly yield to him, just as Bolverk and many others had before. But though they respected, or in Beowulf's case, tolerated, greater power, it was never wise to trust that they would sit idly by if an opportunity presented itself. While no real threat to him, even with his presence, they could still pose a threat to the woman in his care. She was right, without her, this journey would be for nought.

He looked in the direction of the now, much closer tower. All it represented to him was death. Demons had spilled out of it, killing everything they could in their path, taking his friends and comrades. And now, it was taking his most beloved friend. He knew he must sacrifice to the tower too, but though it required his blood, it did not require his life. But it did demand hers. The unfairness of it angered him, it was yet another show of demon superiority over humans. He would survive it, she, being the weaker species, would not.

They had a lot in common, he and his human friend. They both had a strong sense of duty to their cause, which was why he hadn't really tried to talk her out of he chosen course. There was little point. But he still found it hard to swallow that he was letting his friend, whom he'd known since she was a child, voluntarily go to her death. He loved and respected her greatly. She had been his emotional guide through humanity these past 30 years. Humanity was easy if you were born human, but as a demon, who had spent millennia thinking as a demon, developing an understanding of humanity was a lot more difficult. He'd wondered at one point if he'd loved her, in a romantic sense, but she had patiently explained that the feelings he had for her were more of friendship and respect, and that , that kind of love would come at a later time when he was ready for it. Personally, he thought that there was a potential for it to be more, but they both were for their own reasons reluctant to walk that path. He may have found love an alien concept throughout most of his existence so far, but not because he was incapable of it, or could not recognise it. He knew she didn't think him incapable, or that naïve, it was just an easier way to deal with it without any offence or misunderstanding on either side.

"You're quiet this evening." Her voice interjected his thoughts. "You looked miles away there."

"I apologise."

"There's no need. But I would like to ask you a question."

"Go ahead."

"That book. When I read it, I noticed that there were many blank pages left. Why?" She asked.

"That's because it's not written yet. The information that is recorded in this book is not complete yet."

"Will you write the rest of it?"

"Maybe. I may pass it on to someone else to write."

She stared into the fire, seemingly fascinated by the flames, then made her decision. "Then can I make a request?"

"You know you can ask me anything." Sparda reassured her, she seemed to need it judging by the uncertainty that was there.

"Can I keep a record of my journey through the Temen-ni-gru in it? To add my experiences and knowledge to it."

"By all means. It would make an interesting read." He didn't want to add that it would give him something to keep that was hers. Her experiences, her memories. Instead he just said, "Are you still determined to carry on with this?"

"As determined as ever. Brother, you are not going to sway me. It needs to be done. I have no regrets, I have seen nearly forty five winters which is not a bad age to get to, especially when it's been a life fighting."

Sparda considered her words. "Forty five winters is too short a time. I have faced death many times now, but after a lifetime that has already consisted of millennia. I cannot comprehend seeing forty five winters as a satisfactory length of time to live a life."

"I suppose not." She replied. "But I cannot comprehend what it must be like to face death after such a long time living already. In some ways I would imagine it harder. The longer you have something the harder it is to let go." She looked thoughtful. "But, the passage of time is relative to a person's experience. The longer you have lived, the quicker time seems to pass, so maybe it is no different for either of us."

He wasn't going to ask, but now that their time to talk was running out, he risked offending her. "Do you fear death?"

She smiled. "I suppose this is where I should be brave and say no, but to be truthful, yes. Yes I do fear it, as for all my knowledge of the spiritual, there is so much I don't know, and it is natural to fear the unknown. I would also like to see my daughter married and to see the children she will bear. It makes me sad to know that I will miss that."

Not knowing what to say, and knowing he could offer no real comfort, Sparda rose, walked to the other side of the fire and sat down beside her. "You should sleep my sister." He held out his arms to her.

She shifted and lay back, her head against his chest. "Do you think the stars watch over us?" She whispered.

He brushed a stray lock of dark hair from her face. "They will watch over you and guide you."

"Thank you."

"What for?"

"For being here. For being my friend and for holding me when I'm scared."

Sparda tightened his grip on her in way of a response.

"Sparda?"

His eyes widened in surprise. He couldn't remember a time she'd ever used his name. He'd always been 'Brother', just as, because of her position in the clan, she had always been 'Sister', but all he said was, "What is it?"

"When the time comes, will you be there for me, as you are now? I'm not sure my hand is strong enough and I'm scared I will falter when the time comes."

"You have the strength to do what's necessary, but I will be there to keep you steady. I will not let you suffer." He knew what she was asking. He wondered if he could willingly help her to die. Be the one to use the knife on her when the time came. But he reasoned , if he were a true friend, he would do as she asked. It would be easy enough to do, if he shut out everything he had learnt and felt over the past fifty years, just for a minute, reverted to his former self. Then taking her life would be simple. Going back to that way of thinking would be easy enough too, as fifty years was such a small amount of time to him, it was barely more to him than the passing of a day to a human. But he didn't want his feelings as he took her life to be feelings of pleasure. No, he would take her life feeling the way he did now, he would not dishonour her.

"Then I can sleep. Thank you, Brother." With that she was lulled into a deep sleep by the warmth of his body and the strong rhythmic beating of his heart.

They had rested a few hours then had resumed their journey. They were within a short distance of Temen-ni-gru by daybreak. Approaching the base of the tower, there was very little sign of demons. A few stragglers from the battle returning to the tower were easy despatched by Sparda, others cowered from him in fear, making their way back hastily and causing no trouble, so he left them alone.

The sky was darkened, as it had been since the tower had appeared many years before. At the top of the tower a bright red shaft of light went up into the sky, penetrating the dark clouds above. As she looked up, Sparda asked, "What is it, Sister?"

"I was just thinking of the old stories." She replied. "Of the ones told when the sun shone brightly during the day. The tower is very deceiving to those who would believe the gateway to paradise will be found in the sky."

"Stories, most of which are long since dead. The only thing to be found here is death."

"Then let us go and face it."

The entrance to the tower was a large hole, that had been roughly hewn into the stone. At the threshold the air became chilled. She stood next to Sparda, wrapped her shawl tightly around her. "Well, here goes."

"There is much to face inside. Though I doubt there will be any need to fight, but…" Sparda left the sentence unfinished, but had she have strained to hear, she would have heard the name 'Beowulf' spoken at barely above a whisper. They walked through the entrance.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I wasn't sure how to tackle this chapter initially, but on thought of the demon bosses behaviours, I came to the conclusion that with the exception of Beowulf, none of them mentioned Sparda (Nevan doesn't count, hers was a complimentary comment). This got me to thinking about a new way of writing this that differed from my original idea, also it was a way of explaining why the demon bosses in DMC3 lack any real evilness you would normally expect to find as an inherent trait among such a group. So if you'll forgive me, this is where this story probably goes totally AU, but I just really wanted to explore this idea.

A blast of cold air hit them. "Leave now, Mortal. The likes of you are forbidden in this land!"

"Cerberus, my old friend. Are you so unchanging that you'll use that line for all time?"

"Sparda." Cerberus looked down at the demon before him. "The mortal cannot enter here. On your own instructions."

"I require you to make an exception in this case."

Cerberus looked thoughtful. "I would be neglecting my oath if I were to allow her passage through."

"She is vital to our goal. I cannot continue without her." Sparda knew he could've just taken her past and Cerberus could not do much about it, but Cerberus was stuck in his ways, and he liked to follow habitual routines so Sparda saw no harm in humouring an old friend.

"I will permit her to pass, accompanied by yourself. But she is your responsibility." Cerberus added, almost as a disclaimer for his actions.

"I will vouch for her and ensure her behaviour. I will see to it that nothing upsets the tower or it's occupants." Sparda replied to Cerberus' concerns.

"I hope that this will be the only time this happens. I am unaccustomed to changes in my instructions."

"This is the only time, Cerberus. Once we pass by, my instructions to you stand as before. None are to enter into the tower."

"Very well." Cerberus said, satisfied.

As Sparda and his companion bade Cerberus farewell to continue on, Cerberus spoke again. "Do the humans accept you, looking as you do?"

Sparda looked down at his chitinous, armoured form. "Among the humans, I look as one of them. They fear me less in a familiar form. I deemed it more prudent to take my true form to journey through the tower."

"It is a wise choice. There can be no mistakes then. " Then as an after thought he added in warning, "Also Beowulf grumbles."

"His loyalty to the Dark One does him credit. Lord Mundus is currently lacking on loyal servants. But yes, I am aware of the thorn that one represents to me. I thank you for your warning, friend." with an acknowledging nod they parted company.

Soon after leaving the chill of the ice chamber, quiet conversation resumed. "He is not how I imagined a powerful demon to be."

"In what way?" Sparda asked.

"Not in form, but in temperament. I think there is something more honourable in his demeanour than I would have expected in one of his kind." She explained.

"But I am one of his kind. Does this mean my behaviour is unexpected to you also?"

She laughed. "I have known you my entire life, Brother. Even in this form I do not see you as a devil, you are still my brother." She thought for a moment. "I suppose because I know you, I see you as who you are, not what you are."

"Then I am content." He smiled. "But I am not the only one here that fights for humans. Though Cerberus and the others here, their motivations are different from mine. Cerberus and the others respect power, they will yield their will to whomever displays more prowess and strength in battle. Others that you will meet, like Agni and Rudra are gentle souls at heart. They are fearsome warriors and their gentleness must not be mistaken for weakness, the weak do not survive here."

"You have given me much to think about. May I ask about the one the ice demon spoke of? This Beowulf?"

Sparda's face darkened at his name. "He is different from the others here. His soul is truly black and he serves the dark with fierce loyalty. We have come to odds many times, though we have never directly engaged each other in battle as of yet. If we are fortunate, we will seal him away within this tower before we meet. Though I have to admit that the opportunity of doing battle with that one is tempting. I have heard of his prowess in battle and would like to test his mettle."

She looked at him with mock disapproval.

He smiled. "Though I may 'possess a soul unlike any other' as I've heard said about me, I still possess traits that are more in keeping with my nature."

"I suppose this is to be expected and indeed, useful." She smiled in return. "For if you did not, you would not be the warrior you are and we would not have prevailed against such overwhelming odds."

They made their way further into the tower, she watched carefully as Sparda placed items around in obscure locations, sometimes behind hidden walls, others would spring traps. They stopped to rest for a while. Sparda watched as she wrote in the book that he had given her.

She looked up. "You 're not going to make getting back into this place easy for anyone are you."

"This place should never be opened again. And it will not be if I can prevent it. But I do not know if I will be around forever, as a demon I am immortal, but once I leave here forever for the human world leaving my power behind, I do not know what future may hold. I need to secure this place in the event I am not around to protect it."

"Is this the only way to connect the demon world and the human world?"

"There are probably others, given the nature of the thin divide between the two realms there will always be a way, but this way is and will probably remain for a very long time the most well known." Sparda did fear for the future of humanity, he knew that even with all his caution, there was no way he could make the tower truly impenetrable. He feared it to the point of the risk his own power represented, which had brought him to the decision to abandon and seal his own power as well. He had never voiced his fears, and would not now for he did not want her to know that it might prove that one day her sacrifice may not be enough.

It was like she could read his thoughts. "You sacrifice much yourself for my people, Brother. Do not think that I am unaware of what you must give as well."

"It is less than you. I would give more if it was required. But what of you? Do you really think this is worth it?" Sparda asked.

She smiled thinly and sighed. "We can never win in a straight fight. If we are left to battle over the ages, even with your help we would be overwhelmed by darkness eventually. This is the only way to make sure we are never smothered by it again."

Sparda rose from the alcove he was leaning against and offered a hand to help her rise. "I do not want you to do this."

"I know. Please, Brother, do not look at this by how you feel, just by what you must do."

Sparda nodded, but refused to voice his real thoughts. Even highly intelligent devils pursue what they want. They are quite capable of rational thought, but the lust for violence, death and the chaos of their dark nature was driven by instinct and emotion. By _desires._ He had, over time managed to control the baser of his instincts, and a lot had changed he didn't entirely understand himself, but the natural inclination to give in to his feelings, to fight and kill, and to save this woman just because he wanted to was difficult. He was also uncertain on how to act. He was, for the first time in his long existence, facing losing someone he genuinely cared for. Feelings of companionship, of love and for the first time ever, of trust had been built up over the years in his friendship with her. He'd watched over her and had watched her grow from a child into the woman he now trusted with his life, and knew that she trusted him with hers. And as soon as he had found this, it was being taken away from him again.

Anger welled. An old and well known emotion that was almost comforting in it's presence. He had to fight the need to release that anger. Shooting a fist out and crumbling the adjacent wall would need an explanation he really didn't want to give right now. He swallowed hard and tried to reign in his thoughts.

Continuing on, she tried to fight the feeling of vertigo as she crossed a bridge she couldn't see. Sparda took her hand, explaining the bridge was in fact quite wide so there was no need to fear falling, but it didn't alleviate the unpleasant sensation of seeing nothing between her feet and the dark abyss below. A short while later, coming up a lift, she felt relieved as the smell of fresh air met her nostrils, she stepped off as it stopped , walking over to the edge to feel the gentle breeze on her face. It was a welcome refreshment from the stuffy heat of the tower since leaving the ice chamber.

Sparda allowed her this short welcome break before gently taking her elbow. "We should continue."

They followed the path round to the door, upon entering they found themselves in a large chamber. The heat was oppressive, instantly removing any benefit the cool air outside had given. Sparda resolved to pass through this room as fast as possible as he noted the discomfort of his companion.

"Look, Brother. It is Sparda and he has brought a guest." Rudra spoke first.

""Should we honour this visit in some way? Our guests should be made welcome."

Sparda strode up to the demon brothers. "I thank you both for your consideration, but I have pressing business to attend to and unfortunately do not have the time to stop."

"That is a shame, for we do like company."

"Yes, indeed." Agni agreed.

"I am afraid my companion here, though she would be charmed by your company, must continue on her journey, for her time is precious."

"What kind of hosts would we be to delay a beautiful woman in her time of haste?" Agni said.

"Yes, we must aid her journey and allow them to pass. But, Brother, are we supposed to allow her to pass?"

"She is in the company of Sparda, so it must be alright."

"That is true. We should allow them to pass then."

Sparda felt it would be expedient to cut in at this point. "Thank you gentlemen for you kind consideration, now we really must go." Sparda walked right up to the door, to drive the point home.

Agni and Rudra moved aside to allow them to pass. "We will be of great help to you here Sparda. We will watch this door and allow none to pass."

"I thank you both for your aid. I bid you farewell for now." Sparda walked through as fast as dignity and manners would allow. His companion smiled at the brothers holding her composure in the heat as best she could. The doors closed heavily behind them.

Regaining her breath in the now slightly cooler air, she started to uncharacteristically giggle. Sparda gazed at her in slight bewilderment and concern, worried he heat had affected her more than he thought, until she gasped, "They have got to be the most endearing pair I have ever had the fortune to meet. I am quite sorry we couldn't stay and enjoy their company for a while. But I think any longer and I would have passed out from the heat. But thank you for not mentioning that."

"I thought you would like them. But as I said earlier, they respect strength. To tell of your intolerance to the heat would be to show a weakness. As gentle as they can be, it would not have been met well and that in turn, would cast doubts to my strength for keeping company with you. I would have had to defeat them in battle before they would let me pass." Sparda explained.

"Yes, I had surmised that was probably your reason, but I still like them very much." She looked thoughtful. "This journey has become a real learning experience. You have spent time in my world learning to understand humans, and now I have a short time to learn something of your world. From the demons I've met so far, it has truly been an honour."

Sparda felt touched by her words. For a human to acknowledge what little good there was to be found in the denizens of the underworld, to accept and try to have an understanding of his home and nature as he had tried to with theirs, was more than he had ever hoped for. It was true he had turned his back on his home, his kind and everything that they represented, but he could never totally escape for he could not deny what he was. To have the acceptance and understanding of an open minded human to see what he could, he knew that he had been right when he had chosen her as a trusted friend.

More items were left by Sparda in strange looking rooms as they progressed. She wrote down all that she observed, though what she wrote was cryptic in form. Not knowing the book's final destination after her death, she would take no chances that she would give someone detailed instructions on how to negotiate the tower. She wrote of her short meetings with the occupants of the tower, of the lesser demons that lurked in the shadows, but kept their distance. Of Sparda she wrote too, of his interactions with the tower and how he never once took human form, and that even though she had only seen his true form fleetingly in the past, she was becoming so accustomed to it that she saw it as the most normal thing in the world. She wrote also of her contact with the spirits of past victims that wandered this place, the lost and tormented souls searching for peace, some for revenge, but all wanted freedom from this dark place. Other spirits wandered too, the spirits of those before that had turned their back on their fellow humans, dark and twisted, they cried out for her to turn back. Contact with these spirits made her chill, but resolved her determination to lock them away forever.

She spoke to Sparda of these spirits. Sparda in turn explained in detail the history of the tower and how these souls came to be here, good and bad. It made for a chilling tale, but the world had seen much darkness for a long time so it was not entirely unique.

The tower was filled with strange technology that she had never seen before. She came from a world where the sword was commonplace and animals and hand tools were used to farm the land. The strange cogs and wheels of mechanisms beyond her understanding made her uneasy. The contraptions that could carry them to different areas so they did not have to walk were the worst. The unnatural movement and the noise of whirring machinery frightened her, even though Sparda explained as best he could the mechanisms and that they were not dark magic; to try and alleviate some of her fears.

"There is one item I need to retrieve and place in another chamber. We must make haste as it is something I cannot carry for long. So you must do your best to keep up with me." Sparda said.

"I will try."

She watched as Sparda's hand dug into a recess in the wall and pulled out a glowing orb. The instant he touched it, he bent over, his body tensed as though in pain. With a growl he straightened up again, body now crackling with power. "W..We must..hurry." he said, nearly struggling to get the words out.

They took off down the hall, Sparda running ahead, she followed behind struggling to keep the much faster demon within sight. Sparda kept his speed down as much as he dare so as not to seemingly abandon her. He knew if he kept her in sight she could follow him safely. They didn't speak as they boarded and rode the mechanism that took them to a new area of the tower.

Alighting rapidly at the other end, they took the stairs leading to yet another door. Entering the room they were met with a blast of fetid air as an angry roar filled their ears. Sparda, hiding any sign of discomfort strode just ahead, deliberately placing himself between his companion and Beowulf.

"Sparda! Disloyal scum. Have you dragged your carcass back to return to us? Go rot with the insects you love so much."

Sparda looked Beowulf squarely in the eyes. "No. I am here to finish what I started."

Beowulf let lose a roar. "So you are still determined to continue down this path, traitor?"

"I am. And you will play your part."

"Place the Neo Generator there. " A claw pointed to a small indentation on a raised stone. "I will guard it for now. But do not take this as my submission to you. This is only for now, traitor."

"And for now, it will suffice." Sparda replied as he walked over to place the Neo Generator in it's niche as Beowulf looked on, his eyes filled with malice and barely contained rage at the indignity of being at Sparda's command.

As Sparda turned to leave, pain shot through him as Beowulf's hatred spilt over, claws swung out and lacerated his back, Anger rose as he spun round to face the huge demon. Seeing her in his peripheral vision, he called out, "Get Back!". They couldn't afford for her to die, not here, not now.

Wielding his sword out in front of him, Sparda looked up at the much larger demon. "I will seal this tower and all within it. Do not mistake my compassion for the humans as weakness Beowulf. I will achieve my aim even if I must split your skull to do so."

"So you still retain some fire then, lover of insects." Beowulf spat the last word in disgust. "I will destroy you, Sparda. Then with your dying breath rattling in your throat you can watch me tear apart the vermin you keep company with."


	3. Chapter 3

Finally updated and finished.

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"You are the vermin, Beowulf. You attack when my back is turned. Where is your honour?"

"There is no honour in your treachery, you are worthy of no respect despite your strength. I will never bow to you, you disgrace us by your miserable existence. I will pit my strength against yours, without the Neo Generator. A fair match between us. To defeat you with it would be an empty win."

Sparda, blood boiling at Beowulf's threat to his companion readied himself and brought his sword up blocking Beowulf's first attack.

From then on, it was all a blur. She backed into a corner, but there was no where to retreat to, so she watched the figures that were moving too fast for her human eyes to focus on as she crouched in a position that made her as small as possible. She instinctively threw her arm up to shield her eyes as she was nearly blinded by a brilliant white light. As it faded she cautiously lowered her arm, fearful for Sparda - she knew it wasn't him for she'd seen him in battle many times and had never witnessed anything like that- but saw him temporarily still at the opposite side of the expansive chamber. Relief swept over her, as even though she wasn't for this life much longer, and she had seen many terrifying things, she knew if Sparda failed, she would die here. And this tower with its intrinsic evil was the most blood chilling thing she'd ever experienced, and some of its occupants more terror inducing than anything she'd ever seen before.

Sparda lunged at his opponent, a low growl resonating from deep in his throat, Beowulf evaded to the side and in response Sparda swung around midair bringing his sword in a powerful downward arc. All she made out next as blood sprayed through the air, a fine mist of it hitting her dress, was the ear-splitting scream of pain that came from Beowulf that wasn't dulled by her hands over her ears, and the promises of his vengeance as he retreated hastily cursing Sparda's name.

Sparda walked over and offered an arm to help her rise, which she gratefully took. "Will he return?" She asked.

"I strongly doubt it. Demons heal well from injuries, but even he will take a long time to recover from that one, if he ever regains his sight in that eye."

She wondered at his answer. She had seen Sparda sustain injury in battle just to see it disappear like it had never been there. With healing abilities like that she couldn't see how one injury could be so debilitating. Yet she'd also seen demons fall in battle too, so decided to just accept what he said. His knowledge of his own kind was not something she felt she was in any position to question.

Though it seemed to happen so quickly, the fight with Beowulf had actually postponed their journey quite considerably. Time was not something that they had in abundance. It was only a matter of time before the demons regrouped as one of great strength would rise to lead them into the human world, or even Mundus would manage to overcome the injuries Sparda had inflicted. The longer they took, the more dangerous it became. Picking her up, Sparda swiftly moved through the tower at a pace she could never have hoped to match. Sometimes he would set her down to place a key artefact somewhere or activate a strange wheel shaped device on a wall. These always caused the tower to shake making her think that the entire place was about to come crashing around her ears.

"What is that shaking?" She called as he ran, not sure that even he would hear her before the wind carried her voice away.

Turning his head slightly so the human on his back had some chance of hearing him, he replied, "The tower is closing off."

"Oh." She wasn't sure she understood what he went.

Sparda slowed down and set her on the ground. "There's not much farther to go now. Do you need a rest?"

"No, I'm fine really." She saw the look that briefly crossed Sparda's eyes. Even in this form his sorrow was recognisable. "But, maybe I should take a short break." She smiled. To change the subject she asked about the tower again.

"I see. When the wheels; as you call them, are activate, they rotate the tower, opening up new areas and closing others off. Even though you probably hadn't noticed, we have been all over the tower, except for the very top of it. I was closing off the upper areas, so now, without the right keys, it can't be accessed any more." Sparda explained.

"I understand now. But the tower won't fully close until I…" The sentence was left hanging.

"Yes."

"I suppose we should hurry." She said as she got back to her feet. "The longer we dally, the more time we give our enemies."

She placed herself on Sparda's back again and braced herself for the rush of cold air as he started running again.

As they approached the sacrificial chamber a voice spoke behind them. "Hello there, Handsome. I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

Sparda's companion alighted to the floor again.

"Nevan." Sparda looked round at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, you know me, I never could resist the most handsome devil in the underworld." She smiled coyly. "Besides, I wanted to see the woman you appear to have forsaken me for." She then smiled baring her fangs playfully at the woman.

"I have not forsaken you as there was nothing to forsake. You would do well to mind your place woman and not forget it." Sparda growled.

"Oh, I love it an assertive male." Nevan smiled, looking unperturbed by Sparda's warning. "You're no fun anymore. Well, just remember, when the nights get cold in the mortal world and a mortal woman just isn't enough to keep you warm, you know where to find me." With that, Nevan turned back to where she had come from and walked away swinging her hips for effect.

Sparda sighed at her retreating back. She was a truly beautiful demon, but she could be tiresome at times. He turned back to his companion. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I will ever be, brother."

He smiled at the familiar name. She had not used it all the time she'd been in the tower as far as he could recall. He had wondered if she had been trying to disassociate herself from him, though he wasn't sure why. He sighed and accepted there was still so much more about humans he needed to learn.

He placed a clawed hand gently on her shoulder. "Then let us go, sister."

The inside of the chamber was bright, yet the light seemed to be diffused at the same time giving it an almost neon effect. The blue was strangely calming she mused, wondering if it was by accident or by design.

In the centre of the circular room was a hollow built into the floor. She walked up to it. "I suppose this is it?" He voice was quiet, even in the eerie silence of the room.

"It is." Sparda walked up and cradled her in his arms. She was trembling. Sparda was at a loss of how to react. It pained him, it angered him that she had to feel this, he was aware that deep down in the locked away corners of his mind that he'd long since abandoned, her fear excited him. He did the only thing he thought would help, he held he tighter.

They stayed like that, standing in the middle of the chamber until she drew in a deep breath and pulled away from him. "This is silly. I am acting like a frightened child, I am sorry."

"There is no shame in fear. Sometimes to fear is healthy, you taught me that."

She laughed, but it was hollow. "But sometimes we need to have the ability to put our fear aside and do what needs to be done." She knelt down beside the hollow in the floor and drew a knife from the travelling pack.

Sparda knelt opposite her and took the knife from her. "I will make the offering first." Placing his hand over the hollow, he ran the blade across his hand, spilling blood into the depression.

She reached across and took the knife from him. She smiled as she mentally prepared herself to act before her courage failed her. "You have been my friend for these many years, and I thank you for that my brother." She raised and ran the blade across her throat before he could get to her.

Sparda caught her before she dropped from the pain, she was losing blood but she had cut her throat badly, her shaking hand had missed the larger blood vessels that would bring her a more humane death. Sparda held her, her blood mingling with his own. The bubbling in her throat as she instinctively fought for breath and life became too much. He knelt behind her, with her leaning back into him. He took her head gently in his now human looking hands, kissed her on the top of her head and said softly, "I am going to stop the pain now, sister."

He had made it from the tower with time to spare, but he had not watched the last of it disappear from view. He walked away from it and refused to look back, she would not have wanted him to.

Holding the small brown leather book, he approached the small abode that had once been her home. A young girl of no more that fifteen winters was outside pouring water from a bucket into smaller separate containers. Sparda walked up to her and handed her the book. "This was your mother's. Guard it well." Without another word he left. The girls appearance made him smile, but his feelings of grief were too raw to stay and talk to her, especially now he had to deal with his still infant humanity alone. Reaching the hill where they had sat the night they had set out on their journey, he looked in the direction of where the tower had once stood and remembered.

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Matier rose from the rock she was sitting on. "And that; Son of Sparda, as they say, is that. I said I would tell you a story of your father, and this one has been handed down in the clan over the many generations since. After that things got really interesting. Her daughter, having reached her nineteenth winter…"

Dante and Lucia patiently sat on the other side of the small campfire as Matier, unintentionally continued with her story.

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Final A/N: I was dubious about writing the sacrificial chamber as it was in this, as in DMC3 the thing got wrecked when the tower activated, so therefore, in this, as the tower is activated already, it technically wouldn't be there. But then I figured that in DMC3, it had once been activated before, ie: 2000 years before hand, and Dante fought Vergil in there, and it wasn't wrecked, so therefore the tower could have been activated before in a way that left the sacrificial chamber in one piece. So this is the premise I'm working on.

I know that chances are, in something I haven't read, or can't remember reading, this probably splits off from all continuity and cannon of the game, but I really wanted to play about with the idea of Sparda's journey (in a shortened version) in the Temmen-ni-gru and the idea of him placing everything in the tower from the demons guarding it to the artefacts dotted around the place to keep out intruders, was for me, too much fun to pass up.


End file.
